Free Everything but the marriage by Dallas Schulze

to look ahead, to try to put some order into her life. These past few months were little more than a smoky blur. She'd probably never remember all the places she'd been. But as Devlin had said, the past was past. She couldn't go back and change things. She could only move on from here.
    Devlin. She'd known him only a day and still knew virtually nothing about him; yet she had the feeling that she knew him well. Something deep inside her responded to him, telling her this was a man she could trust, not just with her life, which he'd already saved, but with her soul.
    Odd, for the past year, she hadn't been entirely sure she still had a soul. She'd more than half believed it had died when she'd lost the only person in the world who meant anything to her. But it seemed it had just retreated away from the black pain that had gripped her for so long.
    She scratched under Beauty's chin. Maybe what she'd needed all along was for someone or something to need her again. Or maybe, she'd had to go through a period of mourning before she'd be able to respond to that need.

    When Devlin had asked her if she'd tried to kill herself, he'd chiseled the first small crack in the wall she'd built to protect herself. Life had held little value for a long time, but hearing that it had almost been taken from her, perhaps by her own actions, had struck her harder than she'd realized at the time.
    She sat up, dislodging the cat, who gave her a huffy look before jumping from the bed, hitting the floor with a less than dainty thud. Annalise hardly noticed her indignant departure. She swung her legs off the bed and then sat without moving, staring at the bare plywood beneath her feet.
    Just where was she going to go from here? It was all very well and good that she was starting to rejoin the living, but that didn't make all her problems go away. She had no money, no place to live, no job and no prospects of getting any of them.
    She fought back the depression she could feel hovering in the background, ready to swoop down and swallow her whole. Squaring her shoulders, she stood up.
    There'd been a time when her optimism had been so strong it might almost have been considered a character flaw. It might take a long time to recapture that optimism. She might never regain it. But she wasn't going back to the gray emptiness that had characterized her life for so long.
    She had a long way to go before she had her life in order. But she could only take it one step at a time and hope to God that there was firm ground to step onto.
    Devlin had showered and shaved in the second bathroom and was cooking breakfast when Annalise made an appearance.

    *'Good morning."
    "Hi." Devlin returned his attention to the bacon, trying to ignore the sharp pinch of awareness he felt. Damn, why couldn't I have fished a ninety-year-old lady out of the river?
    "Is there anything I can do to help?" In the face of his less-than-enthusiastic greeting, Annalise's smile faded, her eyes taking on the uncertain look that made his chest ache.
    "Sure. You can tell me how you like your eggs and then you can butter the toast." Devlin made a conscious effort to soften his voice. It wasn't her fault that she made him think of hot nights and cool sheets.
    A few minutes later, they sat down at the kitchen table. Ordinarily Devlin ate at the breakfast bar, but he preferred to have Annalise across the table from him than sitting inches away on a stool.
    She had more appetite this morning, he noticed. She was doing justice to the bacon and eggs. He waited until they'd both finished eating before breaking the silence. "Do you remember where your car is?"
    "I think so." She frowned, trying to bring better focus to blurred memories. "It died and I pulled it off the road. I remember seeing an old bam. It looked like it was about to collapse."
    Devlin nodded. "I think I know the place. It's a couple of miles from where I first saw you, though. Did you walk far?"

    Annalise thought about it for a minute